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The journey of faith reminds me of an old radio. There are periods of quiet stillness. Sometimes there is a deafening lack of noise. And then there is the static. Turn the knob, wrong station, white noise, static: Are you there, God?

I have fond childhood memories of listening to my aunts and uncles go round and round over pertinent issues at the dinner table. An uncle would boldly proclaim, at full volume, that if he were in office, he would know what to do.